


Just Tattoo of Us

by liltwinflow



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Focus is more on the flower shop won't lie, M/M, Mentioned Oikawa Tooru, Sexual Humor, Shrek References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24110086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liltwinflow/pseuds/liltwinflow
Summary: A new tattoo shop opens up down the road, soon after Matsukawa gets a frequent visitor to his flower shop.He never really wanted to get a tattoo, until Hanamaki came along and stirred up his life along the way.
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei
Comments: 22
Kudos: 144





	Just Tattoo of Us

“Yooo Matsu dude!”

Matsukawa doesn’t even need to look up from his list of orders to know who has entered his shop, he briefly raises a hand in acknowledgement the other scribbling down an extra note. Heavy steps make their way towards the counter, Matsukawa sits up in time for his hair dressing friend to drape himself over his work.

“You’re not invisible, you know.” Matsukawa comments, a loud chortle is his response.

“I’d sure hope not!” says Terushima Yuuji, he presses his chin into his palm and stares down at what Matsukawa had previously been doing. “Whoa, a lot of orders this month huh?”

Matsukawa simply nods, there always is around this time of the year. He preferred it to the quieter times where he would be left drifting in and out of sleep at the shop front, flowers could only keep you occupied for so long. Despite his seemingly expressionless appearance, Matsukawa did enjoy the few times his friends dropped by; whether it be for bouquets for dates or small talk of which he ultimately coaxed them into purchasing something by the end of it.

“Did you come here to stare at my handsome face or to buy something?” Matsukawa asks, he stretches to mend his back from his long hunched position over the counter.

Terushima grins, “Your handsome face of course.” He soon stands upright signalling he had something more to say. “And to ask you if you knew about the new tattoo shop that opened up down the road.”

Matsukawa thinks for a moment, about any new places he could have passed on his way to work every morning, his eyes dart outside the shop window. “Haven’t heard anything about it.” He eventually answers when nothing comes to mind, “Weird place to bring a tattoo shop.”

“Kuroo landed himself a job there!” Terushima exclaims, the light slam of his fist echoes briefly throughout the shop. “You know Kuroo right?” He asks, a clear mix of disbelief and excitement in his tone.

Matsukawa hums, “Tall, rooster headed guy? Spoke to him a few times yeah.” He thinks back to the man in question, he had commented on his hair and got hit back with a comment about his eyebrows. It’s strange to think they became friends, or rather acquainted, because it.

“So I went to go check it out, man they did a great job setting it up. You should go visit! The owner is awesome, when I realised he had a tongue piercing I stuck my tongue out and he just did the same, we ended up pointing at each other as though we were long lost twins.”

Damn, this man can _talk._ Matsukawa watches his mouth to make sure he actually takes a break between his rambling to _breathe._

“You would totally like him dude! I’m telling you.” Terushima eventually finishes, Matsukawa raises an eyebrow. If Matsukawa wasn’t listening, he sure as hell would believe Terushima was trying to sell the owner of the shop to him rather than visiting the shop itself.

Matsukawa puffs a laugh, “And here I thought we had something between us. You’re already throwing me away, I’m wounded.” His voice is flat of any real emotion, it causes more loud laughter to erupt from the hairdresser.

“I thought we agreed I’d be your wingman and nothing more.”

“Heart’s been broke so many times, I’m beginning to forget what love truly feels like.”

“Trust me man! You’ll thank me sooner or later.” Terushima says it with so much confidence, Matsukawa almost believes him.

Before he can reply, Terushima is leaning forward and plucking something from behind his ear. Matsukawa soon recognises it to be a daisy, his brows furrow in thought of when he could have placed it there.

“And hey dude, don’t forget to drop by the salon.” says Terushima, twirling the small flower. “They won’t let me touch many people’s hair, so I need you to show them what I can do.” He winks, walking backwards.

Matsukawa only shakes his head in amusement once his friend leaves the shop, he thinks about the tattoo shop down the road for the rest of the day.

* * *

It isn’t as though he was _scared_ of getting a tattoo, his mind just wondered far beyond the thought getting a tattoo. What if he comes to hate it after it was done? What if the artist fucks up and leaves him regretting all his life decisions that lead up to that moment? What if it hurt like a bitch and his skin reacts to it in the worst way possible – can people die from tattoos?

Okay, _maybe_ he was starting to get farfetched. He really wasn’t afraid of getting a tattoo, merely cautious. Matsukawa ponders visiting the shop until he sees the long ass queue leading into it, he firmly decides against it and continues his walk to his own shop.

He can’t deny his curiosity of the guy Terushima had hyped up so strongly, purely on the basis that he too had a tongue piercing. That was Terushima for ya, sadly Matsukawa also can’t deny how hot tongue piercings are in general.

Damn, he’s starting to wish Terushima had given him more details on this guy.

He makes it to his shop in little time, unlocking the doors, and switching the sign from closed to open. He gets more telephone orders than walk in customers most of the time, that doesn’t stop him from changing up what flowers were on display and making sure the place looked reasonably attractive.

“Good morning Matsukawa-san!” Comes Watari Shinji’s cheerful, polite voice. Ever the one to be bang on time, Matsukawa found himself a lucky, loyal co-worker albeit a part time worker, but he appreciates him all the same.

He raises his hand in a lazy wave, “Morning.” As usual, Watari gets straight to work on watering their plants and gathering the flowers due for delivery.

Matsukawa does his share of his daily morning tasks, letting the radio flow through their speakers before eventually settling in his place behind the counter once more. His hands fiddle in front of him, with flower alignments and price quotes, and his mind once again wonders back to the tattoo shop down the road.

“Matsukawa-san?”

Matsukawa blinks, possibly staring blankly into space for hours, his head tilts in the direction his name was called. “Mm?”

“We have a customer.” says Watari, gesturing the stranger standing beside him. Matsukawa quickly stands up straight, an apology falling from his lips followed by a nod to say he would take over from here. Watari leaves to return to his duties, with a small smile, and Matsukawa’s eyes rack over the stranger left to him.

The first thing he notices is their bright yellow and white striped tank top, and yellow combat boots to match. If anything Matsukawa would say they look a little like a highlighter, clearly having no problem with being seen from miles away. A beanie hat covers their head, but Matsukawa can see pink strands beneath it.

Well this was definitely a new face.

“You must have been having a great dream,” He blinks yet again. “to be staring off into the distance with a dreamy look on your face.” The stranger smirks, obvious amusement in his tone. He was teasing him – or mocking him.

“Oh you know, Shrek just fills my mind.” Matsukawa replies, somewhat sarcastically, somewhat jokingly, the stranger snorts all the same.

“Ah yes Shrek fantasies, I can’t deny not having some of those myself.” He nods as though he strongly relates to Matsukawa, Matsukawa can’t help the small snicker that leaves his lips.

“Hanamaki Takahiro.” The stranger introduces, for what reason Matsukawa doesn’t know. He thinks over the name for a few seconds, if he is right it would translate to ‘Precious Flower Roll’. He exhales through his nose, how fitting for where he currently stood.

“Matsukawa Issei.” Matsukawa ends up replying, pushing aside the price quotes and flowers he had been working on. “Well then, may I help you Hanamaki?”

“With my Shrek fantasies? I mean knowing where you stand with Shrek, I can’t say it’s the worst thing.” Hanamaki shrugs, “but you’re gonna have to wait in line, he is superior to your good looks.”

For a few seconds Matsukawa stands stunned, for a number of reasons (being called good looking totally isn’t one of them), it wasn’t long before stifled laughter is shaking him. “Damn can’t argue with that, there must be some way I can win you over oh handsome stranger.” He jokes in return, once again there’s little emotion in his voice but it causes sniggers to leave Hanamaki as well.

“Give me some inspiration and I’ll think about it.”

Matsukawa raises an eyebrow, “bold words to a guy you just met, don’t tell me you treat all guys this way.”

“Only good looking ones in flower shops.” Hanamaki replies, “For the record I did mean flower inspiration.” He adds.

“You had all the time to look around, or even steal something whilst I was caught up in my head.” Matsukawa doesn’t know why he’s talking to this stranger so casually; he was polite for the most part to his customers but otherwise quiet and to himself.

“I’ll remember that for next time.” says Hanamaki, that smirk was still present on his face and his tank top was still very much blinding. “Try not to go too far in his swamp whilst I look around, eh?”

Matsukawa hums, “No promises, it is a very nice swamp.” He answers but gestures his shop regardless. “If you need any help or information, shout.”

It isn’t long before Hanamaki is returning to the counter with a handful of various different flowers, a very odd mix Matsukawa notices but says nothing on the matter. Instead he secures the bundle, calculating a price.

“Do you want a vase for it?”

“Do you think they can fit in coffee mugs?”

Matsukawa looks down at the bundle, then back to Hanamaki with a deadpan stare that he hopes conveyed his message. “Alright, Alright I’ll take a vase whichever you see fit. Not an expensive one though.”

“I’ll give you 20% off.” Matsukawa answers, placing them inside a thin vase.

“Oh? Do you do this for all your first time customers?” Hanamaki asks, leaning forward on the counter in an attempt to be flirty.

Matsukawa pushes it towards him, “Only those who share an interest in Shrek.” With that he reads the total cost of his purchase and accepts the cash Hanamaki puts down.

“I’ll be sure to find more of your interests.” Hanamaki smiles, a small one, closer to a smirk. Matsukawa hums and watches him lift the vase and head towards the shop door, “See you around.”

Matsukawa waits until he’s alone in the shop front once again, to reflect on what had just occurred. Thoughts coming faster than he can comprehend, he pulls out his phone and proceeds to make the biggest mistake of his life.

_the weirdest thing just happened –_

He gets a reply in seconds.

\- _Spill._

* * *

The phone rings, Matsukawa’s groan is muffled behind his folded arms on the shop counter. “Hey, Watari if it’s Oikawa tell him we’re charging for shop phone calls.”

Watari’s head tilts in the faintest sign of confusion but he nods none the less and goes to answer the phone. It had been two weeks since Hanamaki had visited the flower shop, Matsukawa only knows this from the way Oikawa buzzed off his phone constantly asking if his new friend had visited again yet.

He had considered stopping by the tattoo shop a few more times since then, each time he caught the eye of some extremely bored looking guy sat at the reception desk and occasionally Kuroo. He quickly passes by and refuges in his own shop. It seemed their little tattoo shop was shaping up to be a success.

Matsukawa sits up checking the time, he still has six more sets of flowers to collate and get ready for delivery. Instead he had ended up reading through the language of flowers and twirling an amaryllis between his fingers, until his head eventually sank to the counter.

This time Matsukawa is aware of his surroundings as the bell rings and the door to his shop opens, he straightens up to seem presentable to his customer.

“Look who’s not daydreaming this time.”

Well, Oikawa can stop his nagging now.

Matsukawa exhales through his nose, slowly lowering his elbows back to the counter. “You came back.” He comments, eyeing what outfit Hanamaki had decided to wear this time. A lot more toned down this time, though his salmon pink shirt still stood out.

“Naturally.” Hanamaki answers, “Your flowers were a great help by the way. I never really asked how to take care of them so they’re kinda withering away by now, still we’re finding a lot of use out of them despite the condition.”

“What exactly do you do?” Matsukawa finds himself asking before he can really think about it, which again was strange considering he never usually takes much interest in other people.

There’s that smirk again, Hanamaki also leans forward on the counter. “I own the that new tattoo shop down the road.”

Matsukawa pauses, playing the words over in his mind. _He_ was the owner? _He_ was who Terushima chatted about so highly after a brief meeting?

Matsukawa realises telling his friends about their first meeting was indeed shaping up to be the biggest mistake of his life. Not only is Oikawa nosey, but Terushima is right in the assumption that he and Hanamaki could get along. If he revealed to them Hanamaki was the owner of the tattoo shop he’d never hear the end of it.

“What’s with the brooding look? Tattoos not up your street?” Hanamaki asks, his smirk falters and Matsukawa shakes his head. “And here I thought you looked like the type of guy who would have one or two.”

“It’s not as though I don’t like them.” Matsukawa says, their proximity allowed him a better view of the silver ball in the centre of Hanamaki’s mouth. Now that he thinks about it, from an outsider’s perspective, Hanamaki didn’t seem too far off from Terushima. “I was thinking about something else.”

“Thinking about Shrek when I’m _right_ here? Ouch.” Hanamaki dramatically raises a hand to clutch his chest, “I thought this was the beginning to a new love story.”

Matsukawa rolls his eyes, a small huff of amusement escaping his lips. “Hate to break it to you but I don’t date guys who I barely know.”

“So…” Hanamaki makes a cutesy pose with his hands under his chin, “Does that mean there’s a possibility of dating once we get to know each other?”

He didn’t know what he expected, their playful banter before intrigued him and yet he brushed it off as stupid flirting and nothing more. Looking at Hanamaki now, it was hard to tell his intentions, especially on their second meeting.

“Who knows.” says Matsukawa eventually, “You might turn out to be a crappy guy and I’ll have to find solace in Kuroo.” There was no harm in stupid flirting, right?

Hanamaki snorts, it’s an ugly sound but one Matsukawa wouldn’t mind hearing again. “My Kuroo? Tall, black haired, with a birds nest spawning on his head?”

Matsukawa snickers, “I didn’t realise he was owned by you, I’m sure it wouldn’t take a lot to win him over though.”

“How much would it take to win you over, my dear good looking Matsukawa?” Hanamaki asks, he plucks the abandoned amaryllis flower off the counter and tilts it in Matsukawa’s direction. He hates the way his cheeks warm slightly at the cheesy action.

It takes him a few seconds to remember his original question before _this_ started. Matsukawa stands up right, “You don’t have any tattoos.”

Hanamaki blinks, anaemic eyebrows raising. “Tattoos are what it takes to win you over?”

“You own the tattoo shop, but you don’t have any tattoos? Why?” Matsukawa questions, genuinely curious on this new fact he had picked up on.

Hanamaki swings the flower side to side loosely, his free hand propping up his chin. “I haven’t found the right one.” So they were the same, reluctant to ink their body with any random drawing. Matsukawa decides his response is valid and hums.

“You said my flowers are useful, what do you mean?”

“We use them as references, for our designs. Well I suppose I use them the most, I’ve taken an interest in flowers so it’s a great coincidence your shop happened to be close by.” Hanamaki explains, his eyes flicker up to Matsukawa’s. “Ever considered getting a tattoo? I’m a talented guy I promise.”

Matsukawa shakes his head, “I wanna make sure I don’t regret it either.” Hanamaki stands upright.

“When you make a choice, be sure to ask for your one and only, Takahiro.” He says, then he’s tucking the flower behind Matsukawa’s ear and stepping back. “I haven’t got much longer left of my break, could you put together a bouquet of flowers you think would look good?”

Matsukawa turns his face away as his cheeks continue to grow in colour, “In a vase?” he asks after clearing his throat.

“If you’ll give me a discount.”

“You’re costing me my business.”

“But we share an interest in Shrek.”

“You’re gonna have to up your game, my guy.” Matsukawa replies, carefully looking around his shop for the best flowers to put together for the man all whilst trying to be somewhat fast.

“Fine I’ll pay full price this time,” Hanamaki says defeated, a smirk still spreads across his lips. “I nabbed Kuroo’s card anyway.” He holds up contactless card between two fingers.

“Thief.”

“He owes me one.”

“Just know that I won’t defend you should he pound you down, you and those noodle arms are on your own.”

“You know, suddenly every positive thing I have ever felt toward you has vanished.”

“Tragic. 4,000 yen please.”

“You’re an ass.” Hanamaki answers, swiping the card.

Matsukawa gives a faint smile, “Well you know what they say, you are what you eat.” It sends Hanamaki into a snorting, snickering mess. Matsukawa didn’t question the fact he had quite openly made implications about his sexuality to someone he has only met twice.

“Hey, I’ll show you the designs I made out of your flowers next time okay?” Hanamaki says once he’s calmed down, Matsukawa tries to deny the joyful feeling that arises in him at the thought of a third meeting.

He nods and lazily waves him off.

“You’re disgusting.”

Kyoutani Kentarou says after the pink haired man had departed, Matsukawa had practically forgotten about his place in the shop. “Where are the flowers I need to deliver?” Kyoutani asks before he can think up a retort.

It’s only then that Matsukawa realises how little attention he’s pays to his own work.

* * *

Hanamaki follows through on his words a few days later, entering the little flower shop with a rather large sketchbook. Again, contrary to their first meeting, Matsukawa is actually doing something rather than staring into space.

Matsukawa barely registers the sound of the bell chiming, carefully trimming down freshly acquired roses and cutting off their thorns. He had more walk in guests than usual today leaving him with little time to work on the telephone orders he had received throughout the week, Watari didn’t work Thursdays either.

“This is the first I’ve seen you busy.”

Matsukawa looks up, startled slightly by the sudden voice, he relaxes when he sees Hanamaki’s partially smiling face. “There’s a lot you haven’t seen of me.” He replies, returning his attention to the roses spread across the counter.

“Is that an invitation?” asks Hanamaki, though Matsukawa isn’t looking he knows the man is wiggling his eyebrows.

“Sir this is a McDonald’s drive through.”

“Last time I checked it was a cute little flower shop.” Hanamaki counters, grabbing hold of a nearby footstool. “That reminds me, Kunimi says he’s seen you look into our tattoo shop but never come in.”

“Kunimi?” Matsukawa questions without raising his eyes from his work, he sees Hanamaki nod in his peripheral vision.

“He sits at reception, looks ever done with the world, polite but kinda cold when he wants to be.” Hanamaki explains whilst taking a seat on the footstool, it was the perfect description of the guy he has indeed caught glances with many times.

“I don’t leave myself enough time in the mornings to drop by.” Matsukawa answers, stepping back to inspect his work. Hanamaki watches in interest, reaching forward to pluck some of the thorns free from the sweater the florist wore. 

“Come by on one of your days off.” Hanamaki suggests, he silently wonders what the meaning behind orange roses is. Matsukawa simply hums, carefully pushing aside the vase to hoist up another set of flowers Hanamaki doesn’t recognise.

“I’ll see.”

They stay in silence for a few minutes, Hanamaki watching the gentle way large hands tended to seemingly delicate flowers and Matsukawa occasionally peering up in slight awkwardness at being watched so closely.

Hanamaki soon pulls out a couple of pencils, shuffling himself to the far corner as to not be Matsukawa’s way, and opens his sketch book. He mentally notes to bring one of the smaller ones next time.

“…Did you want me to make you another bouquet or pick out a flower for you?” Matsukawa eventually speaks up; he doesn’t look up but Hanamaki saves him the trouble of doing so.

“Nah it’s okay, I can get some sketches done from here.”

Matsukawa briefly wonders how long of a break Hanamaki allows himself to be coming over and sitting around as though he didn’t own a shop of his own.

“Let me see.” He requests, putting down the carnation he had been tending to.

“Losing the manners already? Oh Matsukawa you’re getting comfortable around me already!”

Matsukawa shakes his head, a half suppressed chuckle leaving him. “I was never uncomfortable around you.” It surprises him to see a genuine soft smile on Hanamaki’s lips. He doesn’t bother looking for an explanation as to why his heart skipped a beat.

“Does this mean you’re finally opening up to me? I can see our future together already.”

“I marry you for the money, then run off with my one true love.”

“You would _never.”_

“Bet.”

“Well at least I know where you stand on marriage.” Hanamaki remarks, pushing his sketchbook towards Matsukawa. “I can start looking for a ring.”

Matsukawa accepts the book, “Size of my fist or it’s not big enough.” He answers, eyes gliding over the newest page the tattooist was working on.

“Oh? A size queen, are you?”

The comment shouldn’t have caused him to splutter as much as he did, Hanamaki drowns in laughter opposite him. “If so, you wouldn’t stand a chance of winning me over.” Matsukawa retorts, as his laughter dies down.

“I’ll have you know I radiate BDE.”

“If believing so helps you sleep at night.”

Hanamaki conceals his further comments in favour of letting Matsukawa look through his sketchbook, his own eyes skim over the florist himself. He had missed when Matsukawa had tugged off his gloves to handle the book better, from this angle Hanamaki can see the faint scars that littered his palms most likely from gardening mishaps.

Hanamaki lifts his gaze up slowly, from his hands, to his sweater, to the subtle expression of awe on his face. Messy black curls made him look a lot less intimidating, even with the ear piercings lined up along his ears. Of course the stray flower in his hair also did a lot for his image, Hanamaki decides to keep quiet about it.

“You really drew all these?” Matsukawa asks, continuing to flick through. “Using my flowers as reference?”

“Are you questioning my artistic ability? That’s so low, babe.” Hanamaki mocks hurt, it seemed both of them had a thing for speaking flatly.

Matsukawa only pauses briefly to mentally question when they had moved passed friendly nicknames to pet names, he resumes flicking through the book. “Not questioning, marvelling.”

Hanamaki seems content with that, Matsukawa begins to move from flowers to people and can’t help but double take that the same dorky guy in front of him is the same one who drew these surprisingly realistic designs.

“How can you change your style depending on what it is you’re drawing?” He asks, genuinely intrigued.

“ _Years_ of practice. I don’t really like the realistic stuff though; my guy rooster head is better at it. I’m better at the semi-realism and flowers if you couldn’t tell.” Hanamaki clarifies, gesturing work that corresponds with what he’s saying.

Matsukawa nods and pushes the book back, “Shouldn’t you be going back to work, _darling_?” It’s his turn to smirk at the flash of surprise that passes through the tattooist.

“Not without a goodbye, kiss, _dearest_.” Quick to recover, Matsukawa decides from here on out he wouldn’t allow himself to be bested by this pink haired man.

“My services aren’t free.” He answers, “That’ll be 600 yen.” He makes a grabby motion with his hand.

“Sorry to inform you but you did squat.” says Hanamaki, easing himself off the footstool.

“I let you sketch my flowers.”

“It’s not as though I’m taking them and fleeing.”

“You might as well be. 600 yen or I’m banning you from my shop.” Matsukawa says sternly, almost convincingly serious.

“You wouldn’t.” Hanamaki answers, raising that anaemic eyebrow of his.

Matsukawa’s gaze narrows in on him, as if accepting the indirect challenge. “I would.” His heart all but stops as he feels lips pressed to his cheek.

“You wouldn’t.”

Matsukawa doesn’t get the chance to react, before Hanamaki is sauntering off towards the door. He steps out of the way of an entering customer, before sending a peace sign over his shoulder and heading off towards his own shop.

Matsukawa feels a sudden sense of dread to look at who had a just entered.

“ _Mattsun!_ ”

He is right to.

* * *

Hanamaki doesn’t come back for a short while, which really Matsukawa doesn’t get a lot of time to ponder over due to a suddenly flurry of orders rushing in and customers walking through. He has to enlist the help of poor, sweet, Watari _and_ Kyoutani to help him out throughout the week.

Since his last meeting with Hanamaki, Oikawa had proceeded to talk his ear off – most of which Matsukawa had long droned out. There was something about not telling him they were still meeting each other, and ‘did he just kiss you?!’ and ‘How far have you gone with this guy? You better tell me if you’re dating! I need to meet him properly’ He thinks Oikawa might have mentioned Hanamaki needing his blessing to date his ‘precious’ friend, he’s certain Oikawa has already given him the nickname ‘Makki’.

Ever the drama queen, he was. Matsukawa isn’t sure why he was thinking so far when they’ve only met three times and hardly know anything more about one another. The kiss on his cheek doesn’t leave his mind, however, and Matsukawa finds himself wondering what his future looks like ahead with his new tattooist regular.

* * *

“Are you planning on drawing all my flowers?” Matsukawa asks, eyebrow raised as he looks over at Hanamaki bundled in the corner of his counter. He had started to bring a smaller sketchpad, and his choice in style fluctuated between relatively normal to astoundingly bright or vibrant. Matsukawa lost count of how long it had been since Hanamaki’s shop had opened up down the road, and how many visits the man had paid during the free time he got.

“Is there a problem?” asks Hanamaki in return, eyes trained on the new flowers on display on the shop counter.

“The problem is you’re not paying me.” Matsukawa complains, crossing his arms. “You come and go with free sketches of my flowers.”

Hanamaki finds it hard to take him seriously with the large green gloves covering his hands and flower petals littered in his hair.

“Then make me another bouquet of your greatest flowers, I miss having them around the shop.” says Hanamaki, Matsukawa rolls his eyes at the demanding nature of his statement rather than request.

“My greatest flowers are expensive.”

“Think of it as me paying you back for all the times I’ve come in and sketched your flowers.”

“Are you sure your wallet can handle that?”

Hanamaki eventually closes his sketchpad, “I earn more money than you think I do, probably even more than you.” He says challengingly.

“Then you can spare me some cash.” Matsukawa replies, holding out his hands. “Let it rain.”

Hanamaki holds his head high, “Fear not, I am your sugar daddy now.”

“I’m relying on you for my monthly income, _daddy_.”

A few seconds past before two of them are snickering at their ‘award worthy’ cringe act.

“Here by the way.” says Matsukawa handing him the vase, “You don’t have to pay for the vase.”

Hanamaki grinned, “Does this mean I’m close enough to you for discounts again?” Matsukawa breathes a laugh.

Thinking on his words, he would indeed say they have gotten close through Hanamaki’s visits. By now they had exchanged phone numbers (only to message each other at 2 in the morning over random realisations) and learnt information that would take other years to find out. The only things they had yet to do was go round to each other’s houses and meet friends and family. Matsukawa was more than happy to make the meeting friend’s part wait.

“You still have to pay for the flowers.”

* * *

“Have you ever made a flower crown?”

The random question almost threw Matsukawa off from his watering, Hanamaki sits in the same place as always as the time for the shop to close drew gradually nearer. Matsukawa gave up trying to figure out how he, the owner of a popular tattoo shop, could finish early and have days off so easily.

“Probably when I was a kid.” Matsukawa answers, sending a glance over his shoulder. “Why?”

“You always have flowers in your hair.” Hanamaki comments, for once he kept to his usual neutral – if not bored – expression as he watches Matsukawa’s movements.

Matsukawa pauses, reaching up to pat his hair. Sure enough one or two petals fall from his head followed by a small daisy. Matsukawa frowns, “ _Always?_ ” he asks.

Hanamaki lazily nods, “In some way.” He smiles slightly, “It’s cute how you decided to become one with the flowers.”

Matsukawa huffs, shaking his head in case any more flowers were nestling in his hair. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Don’t you realise when you get home?” He had a point, but Matsukawa wasn’t going to give him the joy of it.

“I want a divorce.” This was another advancement in their fake lives.

“Gasp, you can’t divorce me! What about our children?” Hanamaki cries.

“What children?”

“I was waiting for the right time to tell you…” Hanamaki trails off, his hand lowering to rub his stomach. “It’s yours, we’re going to have a baby.”

“I thought I was your baby.”

“Come on, dearest don’t be jealous of our future child.”

They continue their banter for a few minutes more, Matsukawa continues to go about watering his plants in the meantime. Hanamaki waits until Matsukawa seems satisfied with his work to look at him expectantly.

“Aren’t you leaving?”

“I thought we were going to make flower crowns.”

Matsukawa looks to the clock, they have a short while until he has to close up the shop and Watari and Kyoutani had already left for the day, so he shrugs and looks for some flowers for them to start their creations.

That evening impacted him more than he would like to admit, but he was an expert at covering that up.

* * *

“Hey Matsu.”

Matsukawa looks up from his place sweeping the floor. Hanamaki had of course come to spend his free day at the flower shop, watching Matsukawa tend to customers and making small talk with Watari whenever the guy passed by. Matsukawa still to this day does not know what Hanamaki finds so interesting about his shop that has him coming over so often.

“What does the yellow rose with red tips mean, you know in flower language.”

Questions like this became frequent during Hanamaki’s visit, whenever a new flower was put on display the pink haired tattooist would ask its meaning. Most the time Matsukawa is able to answer him off the top of his head, from the times the shop was quiet, and he had time to spare and read up in flower meanings. Other times he’d have to flick through the book his grandmother had left him years back.

The flower in question is one Matsukawa knows the meaning to well along with the other roses which surrounded it. He thinks back to the time they had made flower crowns, two grown ass men complaining when they got it wrong and competing on who could make it the fastest.

He thinks back to the moment they had shared simply staring at each other once they had gifted one another the crowns to wear, and the conversation with Oikawa that came with him intruding yet again.

_“It’s obvious he makes you happy, whether he’s real flirting or fake flirting, he sure as hell feels something about you. Trust me, I know these things.”_

“It signifies friendship.” (and falling in love) he says, hoping his tone didn’t give away that there was more to it’s meaning. “The peach one signifies closing the deal and getting together.”

Hanamaki wiggles his eyebrows, Matsukawa wishes he had something to throw at him. “Pervert.” He murmurs, chuckling at the weak attempt of a retort he tried to give in return. Matsukawa continues to sweep and Hanamaki continues to doodle in his sketchpad.

This time Hanamaki leaves before Matsukawa closes up the shop, Matsukawa always lingers around a few minutes after closing just to ensure he’s cleaned up properly and had everything he needed. Which is how he notices the black sketchpad littered with random stickers.

He picks it up with the intention of giving it back to Hanamaki the next time sees him, but curiosity gets the better of him when he realises this was the only sketchpad Hanamaki hadn’t show him yet.

Matsukawa shrugs, deciding he could deal with anything that comes after looking inside.

He doesn’t expect the last several pages to be doodles of him, and scawly annotations around the sides.

He doesn’t expect soft detailed drawing of him with yellow red tip roses inked onto his skin, blossoming out of his mouth, and roses labelled peach scattered around him.

* * *

He wishes the vines in his head were the vines he would quote to Hanamaki at ass o’clock in the morning just to be a pain, instead of growing thorns and withering flowers consuming his brain with spiralling thoughts. He wishes he didn’t pick up the pad and didn’t tell his friends of his new friend. Truthfully, he wishes he had a proper nights sleep.

Matsukawa groans against the counter, the shop only opening up a few minutes ago, he doesn’t expect anyone to drop by so soon. Making it the perfect time to wallow in his self-pity caused by the tattooist down the road.

“Matsukawa-san?” His eyes peer up. “Are you okay?” asks Watari, jacket still on and bag still on his back. Must have just come in. Matsukawa nods against the counter, chin moving uncomfortably against the surface but that was the least of his concerns.

“Peachy.” He answers, lazily raising a hand to give a thumbs up. He hopes that his lack of sleep isn’t evident on his face. Watari doesn’t look convinced, eyes lingering for a few seconds longer.

“I can take over the shop for today, if you’re feeling unwell?” sweet, pure, Watari offers.

Matsukawa notes to get adoption papers ready and keep him around for as long as he can. “I’m good.” A little white lie didn’t hurt anyone, other than himself. Matsukawa sits up, with as much will power as he can muster and sighs. “Don’t worry.”

Eventually, Watari takes his word for it and heads out the back to begin his morning tasks. Matsukawa turns on the radio to drown out the silence and herbicide the vines in constricting his brain. Oikawa’s words still circulate, the past events still come through, and the drawings remain fresh in his mind.

“I’ve decided on a tattoo.”

Matsukawa looks over, there again, sits Hanamaki munching on some sweets he had picked up along the way. Matsukawa tried his best to ignore his presence once he had entered the store, thankfully a few customers had come and gone to give him something to concentrate on rather than his stupidly handsome face and questions that won’t leave his mind.

“What?” Matsukawa asks, now having a reason to pay him more attention. He can’t remember how long it’s been now since they became friends, or how long it’s been since Hanamaki revealed to him the reason why he had no tattoos. The statement surprises him.

“Yup, I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Was wondering if you wanted to come in and watch me get it.” Hanamaki says as though it was no big deal, Matsukawa thinks back to the sketchpad he still has yet to give back to the tattooist. He thinks back to the first invitation he had gotten to visit the shop, and he thinks his heart kicks up a step but that might just be his mind tricking him once again.

Matsukawa swallows, setting the last petunia flower into the bucket. “What tattoo have you decided on?”

Hanamaki opens up a different sketchbook, one Matsukawa didn’t see him enter with – granted he didn’t really watch him enter. Matsukawa walks over, brushing his hair out of his eyes, he should really take up Terushima on his words to visit the salon.

“This one.” says Hanamaki, his finger points to the largest drawing on the page. A well-drawn bicep covered in roses all different shapes and sizes. Stems seemed to merge into one depicting the roses to have blossomed from the same seed, Matsukawa could just about make out the annotations of the types of roses they were around the sides. So accurately drawn, the attention to detail striking for someone who claims to prefer semi-realism. Matsukawa stands in awe.

“So whaddya say?” Hanamaki asks after a few seconds of silence, “Good right?” His head tilts to get a better look at the florist.

“You’re tattooing your whole bicep for your first tattoo?” is the only thing Matsukawa can get out of his mouth. Hanamaki breathes a laugh.

“Might as well make the most of the experience, I have my reasons for going so big.” He clarifies, that smirk Matsukawa can’t help but love returning to his lips at his subtle innuendo. Matsukawa doesn’t fight the tiny chuckle that leaves him.

He tries not to bite his lip as he thinks over the roses Hanamaki chose, “Guess I’ll accompany you, so you don’t chicken out.”

“Chicken out? In my own shop? Are you aware of what I do for a living?” Hanamaki asks in mock disbelief.

“Okay Mr I still don’t have a tattoo.”

Hanamaki snorts, “Rich coming from you flower boy.” His eyes flick up in time to see the tiny flush to dust over his cheeks.

“Change my mind, suffer alone.” Matsukawa turns away, picking up another bucket of flowers to tend to.

“Wait!” Hanamaki ‘cries’, dramatically throwing his arms around him. “Baby don’t hurt me like this.”

Matsukawa rolls his eyes as the man continues to butcher the song in surprisingly good English, he shrugs him off and eventually agrees a time to meet and watch him get the tattoo.

The vines in his head grow tighter.

* * *

He knew sooner or later that entering Hanamaki’s tattoo shop would become inevitable, despite how long it has been since he opened it, Matsukawa can still remember Terushima’s excited praise about what he did with the shop.

The first thing he notices upon entering is the plant pots by the reception and a few of his flowers on the shelves, something akin to warmth spread through him once it registered in his brain that Hanamaki really did put up his flowers around the place.

The second thing he notices, is the receptionist with such done expression it could convince Matsukawa that there was nothing worth living for. Kunimi – as Hanamaki had told him a while back – looks up at him briefly. “You finally came in.”

Sheepishness isn’t something he’s used to; Matsukawa can only manage a small nod. Kunimi says nothing more, Hanamaki’s titter breaks the silence. “Well since I saved you the formalities already, let’s head in. After Kuroo’s last client you can go ahead and get ready to leave.”

The last part is directed towards Kunimi, who nods going back to his phone Matsukawa only just notices now he’s got a view of the back of the desk.

Hanamaki leads the way in, making sure Matsukawa still has an idea of where he’s going through his wondering eyes.

“Yoo eyebrows, finally decided to get a tat?”

Matsukawa recognises the voice to belong to the Kuroo he had run into many times, Kuroo who had gained a few tattoos himself since the last time he had seen him.

“Nope came to make sure this one doesn’t back out of getting one.” He answers, nodding his head over to Hanamaki who is already preparing everything he needs. Kuroo accepts the tools thrusted towards him, scooting his own chair closer to the tattoo chair Hanamaki plonks himself onto.

Matsukawa watches in fascination as Kuroo stretches gloves over his hands and begins to sterilise pale skin, he can’t ignore the nagging feeling within him, the vines prickling into his brain telling him to speak or forever suffer.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Matsukawa eventually gets out his mouth, he shoved his hands in his pockets before he had entered the shop, so his fidgeting didn’t get annoying. “I mean, you know what those roses signify right?” He quickly adds.

Hanamaki smiles, small and knowingly as though he is aware of something Matsukawa is not. “Why do you think I asked so many questions?” he answers, and Matsukawa decides that’s a very fair point and explains the fascination he had taken to learning flower meanings. “I’ve done my research.”

Matsukawa keeps quiet, watching as Hanamaki nods to Kuroo and Kuroo begins to place an outline of the design on his skin. The process continues smoothly, without much outward discomfort from the tattooist.

Matsukawa can’t stop thinking about the sketchpad in his store.

* * *

A few days pass, Matsukawa almost begins to consider giving himself temporary amnesia just so he can sleep without being plagued by thoughts keeping him up. Watari, his soon to be adopted son Matsukawa has self-proclaimed, has voluntarily been coming in more often to help him with the workload despite them not being as busy. To his surprise, Kyoutani comes in from time to time to talk sense into him and make him to do his work. (If you can count ‘Stop sitting there looking stupid or I’ll quit helping you’ as talking sense).

Matsukawa has found himself investing more time into creating flower crowns, after a mother and a child had come in to see the discarded crown he had left after Oikawa had intruded on his time with Hanamaki. The little boy seemed excited at such a creation and since then requested he showed him how to make one, Matsukawa ever the one to be softer towards children accepted his request and continued to make more should the boy come back unexpectedly.

It helped that it was useful in keeping him occupied, the fact Hanamaki’s ugly ass snort and contagious snickers rang through his ears was not.

The sketchpad remains underneath the counter, away from his view but ever present in his mind. He can faintly here his phone buzzing, and thanks work for being a good excuse to ignore it. Of course, if there was a god up there, Matsukawa decides they hate him as the bell to the shop door rings and in comes the man who made sleeping a challenge. 

Matsukawa gives him a nod of acknowledge meant and looks back down to his nearly completed flower crown, and hopes the little boy comes back to appreciate his work. Hanamaki, as usual, takes a seat on the footstool in the corner out of the way.

Matsukawa soon determines that being in his presence, without a word, now made the air around him very uncomfortable. There goes all that time they spent getting close, huh? His boot covered feet taps against the floor.

At the feeling of something being placed on his head, Matsukawa blinks and looks back over to the tattooist. Hanamaki simply smiles, half hidden by his palm pressed against his cheek. “I knew you’d like the idea of flower crowns.”

Well, he can’t fault him there.

The action makes something twist within him, there’s a look in Hanamaki’s eye that Matsukawa isn’t familiar with. Once again, prickling vines contract around his mind and reminds him of the words that needed to be said.

“Makki.”

Hanamaki raises an eyebrow, “Makki?”

Matsukawa pauses, he forgot that the man had yet to meet his friends. “Oh, Oikawa has taken to nicknaming you that.” He doesn’t bother suggesting that they might meet each other soon enough, he doesn’t know what will happen after he reveals what has been keeping him up at night.

“I found your sketchpad.”

Silence. Matsukawa almost wishes that he had texted it instead, followed by a ‘lmao jk’ – it wouldn’t sound as convincing in real life. He watches as realisation slowly seeps into Hanamaki’s eyes and his body leans back. “The drawings,” Matsukawa speaks, feeling the need to say something to reassure him or defend himself. “They’re cool.”

That was fucking lame, he should stop talking. “I never thought I could look good through lines and roses.” He continues anyway, he forces a laugh to make the air around them lighter. It does nothing to help.

Hanamaki stands, moves to stand fully in front of him with only the counter between them. “Could I get some, red, yellow, yellow with red tip, and peach roses?” He asks, Matsukawa feels something within him sink at being ignored – that is until he registers the meaning of each those roses.

Confused at the sudden change of subject, Matsukawa slowly forces himself to gather the requested roses. “Bouquet?” He murmurs, instead of simply assembling them and handing them to the tattooist like usual.

“Ribbon and everything.” Hanamaki answers. Matsukawa does just that sliding them towards him once he’s done, before he can tell him the final price, Hanamaki is picking it up and tilting it towards him.

“For you, good sir.”

“What?” He wasn’t confused at the change of subject, he takes it back, he’s confused at what the hell this man is playing at.

“I think we’re close enough to give dating a shot, right?” Hanamaki asks, he gestures the flowers once again. Is he serious? “Listen, you and your flower shop has given me a lot of inspiration over the months. When I walked in, I thought you were hot, then you opened your mouth and next thing I knew you were everything I looked for in both a friend and someone I would like to be around all the time.”

Matsukawa blinks. “All jokes aside Issei,” Fuck, his heart just did a thousand foot leap in his chest at the sound of his real name coming from dorky lips. His tone was very much serious, edged with emotion that would normally be lacking. “I like you, and I’m not good with the serious lovey dovey stuff so please say something so I don’t clown myself.”

It takes a few seconds to a minute for Matsukawa to let the words float around his head, he can already hear Oikawa’s victorious cheer for being right and Terushima’s go to celebration method – partying.

The vines in clutching his mind slowly loosen enough for Matsukawa to say, “Are you really going to purchase these roses?”

“Uhhh.” Hanamaki looks between him and the roses, now the one confused over the sudden change of subject.

“Because I’ll allow you to pay for them with a kiss.” Matsukawa finishes, a smirk paints his lips and Hanamaki’s eyes widen.

A grin soon forms on his face. “I’ll take them and many more.” He eagerly replies, Matsukawa has no time to laugh because Hanamaki is leaning forward and sealing their lips together in a kiss. One, two, three long pecks later they pull away merely millimetres away.

Matsukawa’s head feels lighter, his brain set free from its binding restraints. “I want a tattoo.” He blurts out, against cherry flavoured lips. He feels Hanamaki smile once again.

“Really?” He asks just as lowly; Matsukawa doesn’t know when they decided speaking quietly would draw the moment out longer.

Matsukawa leans back to get a better look at his face, “I want you to do it, no offence to Kuroo but if he can’t tame his hair then he can’t tattoo my skin.”

Hanamaki bursts out into laughter, “Tell me what you have in mind, I’ll draw something up for you.”

Matsukawa nods, the small smile on his face refusing to leave.

“I’ve gotta go back, wanna head home together _hubby_?” Whatever the implications of that was, Matsukawa doesn’t ponder it.

“Of course, _darling_.” Hanamaki leans forward again, another kiss, a cheeky bite to his bottom lip then a grin to follow. It felt…natural. Matsukawa pushes the bouquet of flowers back into Hanamaki’s hands, a silent message to keep it since obviously he owned the flower shop.

Matsukawa forgets about the crown Hanamaki had placed on his head, he forgets about the lack of sleep he’s had, the flurry of questions in his mind, it all leaves with Hanamaki as he exits the shop.

_ur confession was real smooth btw –_

_-thx ive confessed to one man in my lifetime_

He laughs, at the message, at his stupidity, and his obliviousness to the entire situation. He laughs because he doesn’t know how to handle such relief and happiness.

(gc)

_i think i have a boyfriend now –_

_and im getting a tattoo –_

* * *

It doesn’t take long for Matsukawa to decide on the tattoo to be forever inked on his skin, nor does it take long for Hanamaki to draw up the design and clarify it with him.

The confession opened up a lot of things to Matsukawa’s previously blind outlook, such as the reason why Hanamaki had chosen the roses he did for his first tattoo. Yellow; delight, friendships, and new beginnings. Peach; appreciation, getting together. Lavender; love at first sight. Yellow with red tips; friendship and falling in love.

They were all hints at the way he felt for Matsukawa, who felt like the entire circus after he realised but no one needs to know about that.

He had dealt with his friend’s excitement over the change in their relationship, and the ‘I told you so’s and questions of when they can meet each other. By now they’ve both spent the night in each other’s apartment at least twice. They still had many steps towards the future, but Matsukawa’s biggest step now would be walking into that tattoo shop for the second time.

Hanamaki squeezes his hand as he opens the door to his shop, Kunimi looks up from what Matsukawa guesses is his phone behind the desk. What confuses Matsukawa is the way he continues to look up as though there is something above his head.

Hanamaki follows his gaze, snickers when he remembers the little boy who encouraged Matsukawa to put the flower crown on earlier that morning. He pinches it off his head, and places it on his own. He pretends he doesn’t see the light flush that dusts over his cheek.

“Is Kuroo still around?” Hanamaki asks, Kunimi juts a thumb to the back.

“Finishing up on his last client.” He answers monotonously, Hanamaki nods and mentions something about being able to leave when he pleases then leads Matsukawa through the studio once again.

Hanamaki motions for him to take a seat in the chair he once sat in, asking if there was anything he needed to make the experience more comfortable. Matsukawa remembers lying next to him in bed, eyes fixed on the healing tattoo against pale skin. He remembers asking if it hurt a lot and if he would ever regret it, he also remembers kicking Hanamaki when he laughed at such innocent and genuine questions.

Before, Matsukawa wouldn’t have dreamed of sitting in a tattoo chair with his arm outstretched and bracing himself for what was to come. Before Matsukawa wouldn’t have thought he could truly become one with the flowers he loved and tended to everyday.

Now, Matsukawa watches as Hanamaki prepares the ink and looks over the design once again. Where he had went big and tattooed his bicep, Matsukawa decided for a small portion of his forearm with the roses that applied to them most.

The yellow and red tipped rose followed with a smaller peach rose branching out of it. It would grow from his wrist as though his hands were the very soil that nurtured them to grow (or Hanamaki’s if you count the times they hold hands).

Hanamaki turns to him, gloves now on and materials at hand. “Ready?” He asks, it’s unfair how pretty he looks with that stupid flower crown on his head.

“Ready.” Matsukawa answers, after a deep breath. Hanamaki grins, it’s enough to calm him as the process begins.

_“You would totally like him dude! I’m telling you.”_

_“Trust me man! You’ll thank me sooner or later.”_

Matsukawa smiles, he owes Terushima his life.

He finds himself grateful for this tattoo shop that opened down the road.

**Author's Note:**

> This for the anon who requested florist! mattsun and tattooist! hanamaki I owe you my life for suggesting this idea. I may have slipped in a few ideas from the server...
> 
> Hope this sorta lives up to what you had in mind!


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